Thank God it's Friday
by overtlycovert
Summary: Brennan, Booth, and a two-hour horror thriller- a complete recipe for banter and disaster. R&R please.
1. Invitation

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. *whimpers***

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**THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY**

"Final Destination 3?"

Bewilderment was written all over Dr. Brennan's face as she took her eyes off the slightly torn movie ticket that Booth had just given her.

He could feel the sides of his lip quiver with amusement- his partner looked as though she had just read some sort of arcane inscription off the thing! Brennan squinted as she held it up and reread the contents, in a vain attempt to get some kind of clue as to what it might be. Nothing came up, however; so she was forced to make a wild guess - "Is this a new band or something?" – a very far-off one, at that.

"Nice try, Bones. But no, it's a movie," Booth replied matter-of-factly. "You know, the one where there's this person who sees a vision of an accident before it actually happens…," he added, seeing that Brennan's puzzled expression remained unchanged.

"You still have no idea on what I'm talking about now do you?"

She shook her head, just like she usually did whenever she was asked such a question. "Where did you get them?"

"Sweets gave them. He dropped them off at my office earlier, saying that we were too preoccupied with work and that we should take time to unwind every now and then," he explained, his tone mocking.

Brennan had a more cynical take on Sweet's gesture, though. "That, or maybe Daisy couldn't make it tonight, and he figured that it would be a huge loss if he threw them away," she reasoned.

"It doesn't matter. Come on, we've got two free movie tickets right here waiting to be used!" Booth beamed, waving his ticket in front of her.

"I don't know…"

"What part of free can't you understand?"

"It means something that is exclusive of any form of payment. What's there not to understand?"

Booth stared at her for a moment before letting out a huge sigh.

"Look, Bones. I'd love to hang around and play twenty questions with you, but the movie starts in-" He paused briefly to take a glance at his watch, "-half an hour and if we don't get there by then, all the good seats would be gone. You don't want to get stuck way back do you?"

"I don't know what that means." Brennan extended her arm to give the ticket back. "But sorry, Booth, I can't go with you."

Booth already had an inkling as to where their conversation was headed.

"Don't tell me you have work to do?"

"There are remains of a Zhou dynasty warrior waiting to be identified down at the lab," Brennan replied, her arm still outstretched.

Booth shoved it back towards her. "You still have tomorrow."

"I have a report to file," she reasoned, pushing it back again.

"You have a report to file," he repeated wryly.

"Yes, two actually. But really, I can't see the point in watching a two-hour piece of fiction when you could be doing more productive things with your time."

"Like staring at thousand-year-old dead bodies."

"It's not just a dead body. It's a perfectly preserved Zhou dynasty warrior."

"Which is by definition, still a dead body."

Booth sighed again in exasperation, before crossing his arms across his chest.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd have to agree with Sweets on this one. It's Friday, for heaven's sake! Lighten up a little! Relax. You can't work for twenty-five hours a day!"

"It takes only twenty-four hours for the earth to complete a full rotation. In this span of time, it's physically impossible for our bodies to perform tasks at an optimum level."

"Exactly my point."

"What is the point?"

Reasoning, he figured, would get his argument next to nowhere. He had to shift to a different approach.

"How many times have you slept on the job this month?"

"Never."

"Bones."

"Once?"

"Hmm."

"Ok, 5 times. We ran out of coffee then."

"You see? I'm no doctor, but it's obvious that your body is exhausted, and that's its way of telling you to lighten up."

"But Booth…"

"Please, Bones. It's for your own good, after all."

"But…"

"Don't make me grab my gun," Booth added jokingly, a huge grin forming on his lips. This was returned by Brennan almost instantly, along with a faint chuckle.

"All right. I'll go. I'm just going to go get my coat."

"Thanks Bones." He turned towards the door. "I'll wait for you in the car."

He was about to step outside when a realization suddenly dawned on Brennan.

"There's something that's been bugging me, though."

"What is it?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Why is called Final Destination 3 when the title itself asserts that the destination is final? Shouldn't there be only one end and not three? It doesn't add up."

"It's the third installment of a movie franchise."

Brennan opened her mouth to speak, but she was abruptly cut off when Booth repeated his earlier statement. "I'll wait for you in the car."

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**Whew, there goes my first Bones fic. This was originally meant as a oneshot, but I decided to make it a multi-chaptered one at the last minute. I'm really hoping I pulled their lines off right. Feedbacks are loved. :))**


	2. Road Trip

**A/N: Thank you very much to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorite-d, and signed up for alerts in the previous chapter. I've got to admit that I was overwhelmed by the response. I really appreciate it! *hands out virtual cookies***

**And now, without further ado, here is the second chapter.**

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**CHAPTER TWO:  
****ROAD TRIP**

It didn't take long and the twosome was finally on their way to the movie theatre.

Initially, both had been remotely quiet, with the occasional rhythm of Booth's hands drumming against the steering wheel as the only form of noise.

The agent had found the silence very unsettling; three minutes into a ride, they had often found something trivial to argue about. They'd drabble on about this and that, with each opposing the other's points. She used reason, he relied on belief. In the end, however, no winner emerges- a silent agreement always put matters to a close.

For him, this was one of the things that added color to his relationship with Dr. Brennan. There's no doubt that he enjoyed these witty exchanges of theirs. Fortunately for him, as always, this rare moment didn't last long; this time thanks to a little boy walking down the block.

"Hey Booth. What's that?" Brennan asked, her head turned towards the window.

"What's what?"

Brennan raised her hand and pointed across the street. "That black thing that that kid with the green shirt is holding."

Booth eyes sauntered towards the spot she pointed at. There stood a boy, who seemed blissfully unaware of those around him as he fiddled around with his game console. "Oh, that. It's a DS."

The doctor's eyebrow rose, as her features took on an incredulous look. "DS?"

"Nintendo DS. It stands for dual-screen. It's a portable game console, kind of like a PSP," he explained, carefully choosing his words to avoid further confusion on Brennan's part. Unfortunately, his last statement ruined his efforts.

"PSP?" she queried, her expression unchanged.

"Play Station Port- never mind."

She continued to stare critically at the boy, who was by then walking directly beside the car. It was here where she noticed his lip movements; he appeared to be talking to the aforementioned gadget! Intrigued by this unusual sight, she decided to seek answers from her partner.

"Why is he talking to it? It's an inanimate object."

"I think it has a built-in microphone or something. At least that's what I heard from Parker. He's been begging me for one for the past three weeks!"

Brennan gave Booth one of those questioning _looks_. He instantly got the hint; he braced himself as his partner took a very deep breath.

"What is it with men and video games?"

"Well that's mighty sexist of you."

"It's obvious that the target audience of this audio-visual activity are men. All the violence, artillery and voluptuous, suggestively-clad vixens- it all spells out testosterone frenzy!" she reasoned.

Booth found her choice of words quite hilarious. However, he knew very well that showing any sign of amusement at that moment would do him no good. He bit his lip to keep them himself from laughing. "I think you're generalizing them. Only a handful of games, which I would like to note have players from both genders, can be considered as 'testosterone frenzy' material."

"True. But you still can't deny the figures Booth. There are definitely more male gamers than female ones. Eight out of ten compared to just six out of ten respectively, if I remember correctly," she insisted, far from willing to give up her cause.

Booth wasn't about to let his guard down either. "Come on, Bones. Don't tell me you've never had even the slightest interest in them as a child?"

"I guess I just had better things to do with my life."

"Yeah, like answering cross word puzzles on the Sunday paper," Booth replied wryly.

Disbelief surfaced in Brennan' features. "I never told you that. How'd you know?!"

He shrugged. "Lucky guess. Ever tried Super Mario?"

"Everything in that game is wrong."

"Wrong? Why so?"

"It depicted a twisted and inaccurate image of reality. I mean, it's physically impossible for a man to use his head to smash up bricks, which is for some reason above the ground without any visible support, without experiencing loss of consciousness or any other noticeable physical damage." She paused briefly to catch her breath. "And turtles most certainly can't fly!"

Booth found himself chuckling at her last statement. That's Temperance Brennan all right- fully capable of rationalizing everything. And by everything, we mean _everything._

"Ok, maybe you're more of a Pacman fan?" Booth suggested, changing the topic to something he believed was far too simple for her to make any kind of scrutiny.

"Pacman? That's the orange circle thing right?"

"The one and only."

"Oh, you got me Booth. I have to admit that I once got hooked to that drug-ball. I even made an analysis of the game for a research paper back in the days," Brennan admitted, nostalgia settling within her.

"Drug-ball. Definitely not one of the adjectives I'd associate with the fellow."

"Come on, Booth. The evidence is right before our eyes. There's Pacman in a dark room, running around, munching on those pellets that are surely not candies. Then all of a sudden, all those ghosts begin to chase him. Surely those things he'd been eating must be some sort of solidified hallucinogen. Narcotine, most likely."

"I just love the way you think, Bones," Booth said, for the lack of a better reply.

"Is that a compliment? Or are you being sarcastic?"

"It's a compliment, I think."

"Thank you, then."

As if on cue, Brennan's phone rang. Beethoven's 9th symphony echoed inside the vehicle.

"Wow, Bones. What happened to your whale songs?"

Booth recalled the previous week, wherein Brennan developed an unusual obsession with whale songs. Apparently, they were much more soothing than chirping birds and other conventional stress-busting sounds.

She ignored his comment and proceeded to answer the call.

"Brennan," the anthropologist greeted, almost mechanically. Her features instantly lightened up after hearing an all-too-familiar voice at the other end of the line. "Oh, hey Ange."

"_Where are you Bren? I dropped by your office a few minutes ago, only to find it empty for the first time in years. What's going on?"_

"Where am I? I'm with Booth right now."

"_There's a new case?"_

"No, there are no new cases. We are going to watch a movie."

"_Aww, darn. Booth beat me to it."_

"Beat you to what?"

"_I was going to ask you out to dinner- but it looks like you've got other plans. It's about time the two of you started dating!" _

"Don't be silly, Ange! It's actually more of a simple get-together between two co-workers of the opposite genders. No romantic implications involved whatsoever."

Booth grinned as she spoke those words. You could always count on Angela to interpret any meeting of theirs as a romantic outing.

"_Yeah, sure. Whatever you say Bren. So, what movie are you watching?"_

"Final...final termination 3…or something like that."

"It's final destination," Booth corrected.

"_Ah, horror movies- the perfect opportunity for extremely close contact."_

"I don't know what that means."

"_Of course you don't, sweetie. Well, I better go. Hodgie's waiting. Bye!"_

"Oh, wait a second!"

"_I'm still here, sweetie."_

"Thank goodness. I thought you hung up."

"_Well, what is it?"_

"I forgot to tell you…please make sure that no one touches the remains I prepared on the autopsy table."

"_The one labeled Joe?"_

"Did you just say Joe? J-o-e?"

_"That's what it says on the box."_

"I told them to label it Zhou…Z-h-o-u...but yeah, that's the one."

"_All right, the remains. Got it. Have fun!"_

"Thanks Ange. Take care."

Brennan ended the call and placed her phone back in her coat pocket.

"What was that all about?" Booth asked, an odd mix of curiosity and amusement in his voice.

"Angela wanted to know my whereabouts."

"No, the co-worker thing."

"She asked if I was excited for my date, and I wanted to clarify that it wasn't one." She paused for a moment. "This isn't a date, right Booth?"

"Nope. We are two co-workers of opposite genders who are off to a movie house for a simple get-together. Oh, and there's absolutely no romantic implications involved."

"Are you mocking me?"

"Of course not, Bones. I'm merely stating the obvious truth. Nothing's wrong with that now is there?"

"I suppose not."

Booth turned his eyes back to the road. A question nagged at him; he debated in his mind whether to ask about it or to just let it slide. Curiosity got the better of him, however. Fighting off the hesitation he felt, he just had to ask.

"So you only think of me as a co-worker?"

Brennan quickly shook her head. "No, Booth. You're my best friend and my partner."

Booth shuddered. Her tone was so intense, so genuine; and her blue orbs seemed to pierce right through him.

After a brief pause, she continued. "We have a very unique relationship, which goes beyond friendship, respect, and all the other aspects. There's no doubt that I trust you with my life…most co-workers don't even give a damn if the other were to be taken off the job that very day, as long as they still got paid."

A brief silence passed before Booth found the words he deemed was appropriate enough to say. "I think you're great too, Bones."

Brown met blue as they stared into each other's eyes with all the love and respect they have built between them for the past four years. This, along with the sincere smiles on their faces, was all they needed to convey all they needed to say.

It was as though time stood still for a moment- that is, until Brennan snapped back to her senses and saw how dangerously close they were to an incoming truck in the opposite lane.

"Booth, the road!" she cried out, as the truck grew precariously close.

"Woah!"

This was all Booth could utter as he hastily swerved his car back on the right lane. The sound of the truck's obnoxiously loud horn, along with the driver's cursing as he stuck his head out the window with his fist raised, reverberated in the area.

"You ok, Bones?"

"I think so. My body's seems to be intact. And you?"

"I'm fine, I guess."

The two were dazed, their hearts beating a mile a minute. If Booth had swerved a second late, they would have been on their way to a hospital, maybe even a morgue if things got awry, instead of a movie theater.

"That was…exciting," Booth finally spoke, his hands still tightly clutching at the steering wheel.

"Definitely. But let's not do it again," Brennan replied in a serious tone.

"Agreed."

The two shared nervous laughter before continuing on with their trip, though this time in a snail's pace. As they say, better safe than sorry.

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**Finally done with chapter two. Yes, as you might have noticed, I'm a huge fan of their logic vs. belief moments. I think I may have ended it too heavily. Or maybe that's just me? Lol.**

**Feedback is loved, as always. Click on that button with the green font below...there, closer...now click! 'Til next update! :))****  
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	3. PreMovie Mishaps

**CHAPTER 3:  
PRE-MOVIE MISHAPS**

After a good fifteen minutes, they finally arrived at the movie theater. The two hopped off almost simultaneously, with Brennan waiting patiently as Booth checked to see that all the car doors were locked.

"You know, that truck incident back then…," Booth began, letting his statement trail off.

"…is eerily similar to the Final Destination plotline?" Brennan finished, in an odd mix of uncertainty and sureness.

Booth stared at her for a moment before smiling amusedly. This instantly stirred confusion on the anthropologist, evident in her tilted head and furrowed brows.

"Looks like someone's been brushing up on their movie trivia," he finally replied, the curve on his lips unwavering.

She was very pleased with herself, and it showed. It wasn't everyday that she can relate to un-squinty topics, as Booth would fondly call them, after all. "I think Angela and I watched one of the earlier movies in her apartment before," she explained, trying hard to remember specific details. "The one with the airplane crash, I think."

"That's the first installment," he informed her. "And now were about to see the third one."

Booth placed his hand at the small of her back as they made their way towards the entrance. She shuddered briefly upon contact- his touch had never failed to make her feel so vulnerable. Yet one look in his reassuring eyes gave her all the security that she needed. The irony had always intrigued her.

Her mind knew that his gesture was an assertion of dominance, of possessiveness; but her heart also knew that she enjoyed this simple act, and that she wouldn't mind being his.

When they entered, the building was packed. People, mostly teenagers, filled almost every nook and cranny of the place.

"Wow, lots of kids here tonight," Booth remarked, noting their unusually large number.

"Teenagers," Brennan corrected matter-of-factly.

Booth nodded, with a look on his face that appeared to say 'Yeah, sure. Whatever.' He pulled out the ticket from his pocket, scanned through its contents, and shifted his gaze to his wrist watch. They still had fifteen minutes left before the movie started, he figured.

"Don't they have school tomorrow?" she asked.

"It's Friday," he answered dryly. "Sweets was right. You really _are_ overworked," he then added, taking her obliviousness to what day of the week it was to be an undeniable symptom of the workaholic syndrome.

Booth proceeded to the snacks counter, where Brennan immediately followed suit. They stood in line for quite a while. While Brennan's attention was focused on the various shades of popcorn that were displayed in front of them, his vision sauntered over to the posters of upcoming movies displayed on the walls. One movie, which even had a merchandise stall, particularly piqued his interest.

It was an animated feature about seals thriving in the Arctic region. Rows of cups, mugs, shirts, and other memorabilia plastered with the animal's furry faces filled the stand. _This must be the movie Parker's been begging me to take him to_, he thought, recalling their conversation over dinner the previous night.

After another short bout of contemplation, the sides of his lips quivered as he made a rather silly realization.

"Look, Bones. It's me, seal-y booth," he couldn't help but crack a joke about it.

Brennan pried her eyes off the rainbow-colored confections and looked at the direction that he had pointed at. The perplexed expression on her features prompted him to explain further. "You know, the animal. There are many seals…so it's seal-y…kind of like an adjective…and they're in a booth, which is like a stand…" He chose his words with utmost care, saying each slowly and clearly, as if he were talking to a three-year-old.

It appeared that Brennan got the joke, as she suddenly broke off into laughter. Loud laughter. "Seal-y booth. There's no such word as seal-y!" she exclaimed in between laughs. People began eyeing the two strangely, making Booth wish that the ground could eat him up at that moment to shield him from their piercing daggers.

"It wasn't _that_ funny," he remarked, in an attempt to divert their attention.

Unfortunately for him, her guffawing episode continued on for what seemed like an eternity. As Brennan was about to end her hysterical fit, the guy in front of them removed his ear phones and turned to see the cause of all the commotion. The minute his eyes set on her, stars welled up on his blue orbs. His jaw hung open as he fumbled in his mind for something decent enough to say.

"Oh…my…God. Brennan? THE world-renowned author Temperance Brennan?" the man screamed out, his voice rising a number of pitches above normal. His body shook as he eagerly awaited for her reply.

"Yes, that would be me," Brennan confirmed, seemingly unaware of how much her presence had affected him. "How may I help you?"

"Lord, I can't believe this is actually happening. Somebody pinch me!"

"Okay." Brennan did as he had said. She reached for his arm and gave it a light squeeze. "Oww, that hurt. Holy crap, Temperance Brennan just touched my arm!" The guy made some kind of noise, which Booth classified as a cross between a gasp and a squeal, before rubbing the area of contact dreamily. _Oh, great. Bones has a fanboy_, he thought with revulsion and a hint of delight.

"You told me to pinch you, am I correct?" Brennan asked, confused at his reaction. He should be writhing in pain and not dancing with glee, for all she knew. It was wrong.

"I don't suppose you're not going to wash that arm of yours again now are you," Booth commented half-jokingly as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Why would he do that? That's completely unhygienic," she snapped back.

Before the two set off into yet another argument, the guy cut them off. "I'm sorry. I'm such a huge fan of your works…and I didn't expect, of all the places, to meet you in the flesh right here in the cinema. This is the best day ever!" he yelled out to the world. Or to everyone in the vicinity anyway.

"I'm glad that you enjoy reading my works, uhm…mister…"

"Elmer. My name's Elmer," he introduced himself.

"….Elmer. Right. It feels great to meet a fan around here."

Booth fought back a chuckle as he thought about how happy Elmer must've been after hearing her say his name. He must've been on the verge of spontaneously exploding by then, if it were even possible.

"I'm your biggest fan. I own all your books and have read them at least twenty times each," Elmer admitted rather proudly.

"Now that's just creepy," Booth remarked, backing away a little.

Even Brennan was starting to get a little freaked out by his confession. "Thank you. That's very…," she trailed off, searching in her wide-as-the-Pacific vocabulary for an appropriate enough reply. "…flattering."

Brennan turned to face Booth, the panicked expression on her face priceless. He wasn't much help, though, as he merely shrugged, apparently enjoying the currently unfolding show. She sighed before turning back to face the adoring fan, who had a plethora of questions to ask her.

"What's your favorite volume? Is he the guy you based Andy off? What brand of toothpaste do you use? Do you like banana cream pie? Will the world end in 2012?"

His questions drifted to the bizarre as each agonizing second passed.

It would've been an entirely different story if Elmer had been another man. But the way Booth saw it, he was no threat. He was just another fan, completely harmless, albeit a little too obsessed. He'd definitely seen worse in her book signing sessions, where the crazed fawners came in groups.

Brennan was on the verge of calling security when a booming voice stopped Elmer in his tracks.

"ELMER! Is that you?!"

Elmer swallowed hard. "Mommy?"

He slowly turned on his heel to face his mother, who had both arms nestled on her hips. She was obviously angry. "Didn't I tell you that you're grounded?!" she demanded in the same imposing tone.

"But mom, I-" Elmer began.

"No buts. You're coming home right now, mister," she cut him off, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him off. "I'm a grown man, mom! I'm in college for heaven's sake. Give me a break!" His objection fell on deaf ears.

"I'm really sorry about the trouble my little Elmie's caused," the woman apologized.

"Don't call me Elmie!"

"He tends to connect too much," she explained ruefully, continuing to ignore her son's screams of protest.

"We know what you mean," Booth agreed and so did Brennan, as she nodded in the affirmative.

They watched in silence as the pair slowly exited the area.

"And the parental unit saves the day," he whispered to his partner when the doors closed shut. She was in no mood for his Booth humor, however.

"Why didn't you interject?"

"Bones."

"His questions were getting personal."

"Bones."

"He was crossing the line."

"Bones!"

"I was already getting…freaked out. And you knew it!"

"Bones!"

"What?!"

Booth raised his hand and pointed in front of them, where a young man behind the counter was clearly wary of the anthropologist. "Go-good evening, sir, ma'am. Welcome to the Snack Shack…," he paused, fearful of Brennan's tensed stance and deadly glare. "Please don't hurt me!"

"Sorry about that," she muttered, giving the most reassuring smile she could muster at the time. It seemed to have worked, as the cashier's form visibly relaxed.

"What would you like to order?"

She looked through the array of treats being sold and spotted the brightly-hued popcorn that she'd been eyeing earlier. "I'd like some of that purple pop corn over there please." Booth grinned; he'd never imagined that the woman would be so intrigued by the unusual tint of the confection.

"And a chocolate milkshake. Oh, and some nachos. How about you, Booth?"

She turned to look up at him.

"I guess I'll have some soda," he told the cashier without much thought.

"You're only going to order drinks?" she asked, curious.

Booth flashed him one of his charm smiles. "I suppose you're kind enough to share right Bones?" He added his infamous puppy dog eyes for effect. The killer combination has never failed him before- and this time was no exception. It didn't take long before she finally gave in.

"Fine. I'll share," Brennan finally agreed in a defeated tone.

The cashier grabbed their orders, placed them inside a plastic bag, laid them on the counter, and punched in their respective prices. "That will be $9.95," he said, holding his hand out to get the money. Booth was the first to give his payment, as Brennan appeared to be deep in thought.

"Hey Bones," he called out, with a matching nudge on the shoulder.

No response.

"Earth to Bones. Yoo-hoo," he said a little louder, waving his hand in front of her face to snap her out of her stupor.

It seemed to do the trick, as she moved her head up to look at him.

"Well, pay up. We don't have all day you know."

She continued to stare at him.

"I _already_ paid for my drink. Now it's your turn to cough up some dough."

Her face remained a blank slate. He was about to explain himself again, when realization suddenly dawned on him. He pointed a finger accusingly at Brennan.

"Oh, I get it. You're trying to get payback for what I did, or rather, for what I didn't do a while ago aren't you?"

She tilted her head to one side innocently.

"Real mature, Bones."

She shrugged, in a manner that was reminiscent of what he had done earlier.

"That's just low."

She persisted with her silent treatment. She so looked so smug and it annoyed him. He wasn't about to let her win _that_ easily, though.

"If that's how you're going to play, then go. See if I care," he challenged her. And she did for a good minute or two.

Fortunately, a cough from one of the people in the line brought Booth back to his senses. There was a considerable number of people behind them, and they were holding them up. Seeing that Brennan wasn't about to give up her cause anytime soon, he decided to raise the white flag of surrender.

"Fine. You win this round," he handed the cashier a crisp ten dollar bill. "But only for the sake of the other customers waiting in line right now," he then clarified as he pocketed his change.

As they walked over to their cinema room, Brennan couldn't help but grin. She had just beaten Booth at his own game.

"Thanks for the free food, Booth," she teased, munching on a piece of popcorn. She then held the plastic container up to his face as she offered him some. "Want some? I promised you I'd share."

"Please don't talk to me," Booth said in a dejected tone.

"At least were even now," she presented as consolidation, in an attempt to lift the guy's spirit up.

"Sure looks like it. But I'm not letting my guard down next time," he guaranteed her.

They continued walking down the hallway in silence. This lack of conversation didn't last long, however, as Brennan came up with what she thought was the perfect tiebreaker.

"I bet I can watch through the whole movie without wincing even once," she dared in a confident tone.

Booth was quick to negate this. "And I bet you can't. The Final Destination seriesis well-known for their top-notch graphics, after all."

"Come on, Booth. I work with dead bodies in various states of decomposition for a living. You really expect me to feel a sense of trepidation over fabricated blood and gore?" she reasoned out.

Booth's face lit up. "Is that a challenge I hear?"

She nodded. Alpha males never say no to a challenge. It's a fact she had proven on many occasions.

"Loser buys dinner?" she heartily proposed.

"It's on," he replied without hesitation.

The two entered the cinema doors with visions of themselves feasting on some yummy fare, eating their hearts out at some fancy bistro.

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**I'm hoping that this chapter can make up for the looooong time in between updates. *crosses fingers* Reviews would be very much appreciated. Suggestions are welcome too, as there are still plot holes the size of Jupiter waiting to be cleared up for the succeeding chapters. XD**

**Now, a little dialogue preview for the chapter four.  
Man: Hey, you. Will you tell your girlfriend to shut up please?!  
Brennan: You are making a huge mistake here, sir. Booth and I-  
Booth: ...are currently in a relationship. So do the man a favor and keep your thoughts to yourself, girlfriend.**

**'Til next update. Thank you for reading!~**


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